The issues raised by the terrible injustice inflicted upon Captain Alfred Dreyfus and Emile Zola's subsequent rallying cry 'J'accuse' in 'L'Aurore' of 1898 are timeless and have certainly struck a chord with film-makers, enabling many of them to draw parallels with their own times and experiences.
The final speech by Paul Muni as Zola in William Dieterle's excellent biopic is a veiled reference to the rise of Nazism although strangely, considering that Dreyfus was Jewish, no one utters the words 'Jew' or 'anti-Semitic'. Fast forward eighty odd years and we have a version by Roman Polanski for whom the Jewish element would have provided many painful memories. There are those who have seen in his film an allegory of the director's own perceived persecution by LA County! Yves Boisset's TV film reflects his cinematic crusade to depict institutionalised corruption whilst the Ken Russell/Richard Dreyfus version is just one too many. Mr. Dreyfus is advertising his liberal credentials here and claims to be a descendant of the unfortunate Captain. The fascination of the eleven minute series by Georges Melies stems from its being made whilst the Dreyfus affair was still raging. I have alas never seen Richard Oswald's version and would be interested to see how the Germans handled the subject.
This adaptation from 1958 is directed by and stars well-known liberal José Ferrer, is produced by Sam Zimbalist and has a screenplay by Gore Vidal. Hardly surprising therefore that there are distinct echoes here of the McCarthy witch hunts.
It is made in a very matter-of-fact manner and some of the leading characters are under-written but the emotive material and strong performances carry us through.
A contingent of dependable British thespians is on dispay here notably Leo Genn whose genteel persona suits perfectly the character of Major Picquart who campaigned tirelessly for Dreyfus' acquittal whilst the odious General Mercier of Donald Wolfit epitomises Oscar Wilde's observation that "patriotism is the virtue of the vicious." Equally obnoxious is Major du Paty played by the superlative Herbert Lom, sans peruke. The two performances that linger longest are those of Swedish born Viveca Lindfors who brings her customary intelligence and sensitivity to the role of Madame Dreyfus and the immaculate Austrian Anton Walbrook who effortlessly steals all of his scenes as the charming but despicable Major Esterhazy.
José Ferrer achieves the Herculean task of being both director and portraying Dreyfus. A previous reviewer, female naturally, has remarked upon Mr. Ferrer's lack of charisma and sex appeal. I was not aware that Dreyfus possessed either of those attributes or that Mr. Ferrer was ever called upon to play a role that required them. He is immensely sympathetic in the part and what he does possess is that golden voice.
The film proudly announces that Dreyfus' eventual acquittal and reinstatement represent a brave chapter in French history. This is of course absolute tosh for were it not for the bravery and determination of a few individuals, Dreyfus would have been left to rot on Devil's Island.
The final speech by Paul Muni as Zola in William Dieterle's excellent biopic is a veiled reference to the rise of Nazism although strangely, considering that Dreyfus was Jewish, no one utters the words 'Jew' or 'anti-Semitic'. Fast forward eighty odd years and we have a version by Roman Polanski for whom the Jewish element would have provided many painful memories. There are those who have seen in his film an allegory of the director's own perceived persecution by LA County! Yves Boisset's TV film reflects his cinematic crusade to depict institutionalised corruption whilst the Ken Russell/Richard Dreyfus version is just one too many. Mr. Dreyfus is advertising his liberal credentials here and claims to be a descendant of the unfortunate Captain. The fascination of the eleven minute series by Georges Melies stems from its being made whilst the Dreyfus affair was still raging. I have alas never seen Richard Oswald's version and would be interested to see how the Germans handled the subject.
This adaptation from 1958 is directed by and stars well-known liberal José Ferrer, is produced by Sam Zimbalist and has a screenplay by Gore Vidal. Hardly surprising therefore that there are distinct echoes here of the McCarthy witch hunts.
It is made in a very matter-of-fact manner and some of the leading characters are under-written but the emotive material and strong performances carry us through.
A contingent of dependable British thespians is on dispay here notably Leo Genn whose genteel persona suits perfectly the character of Major Picquart who campaigned tirelessly for Dreyfus' acquittal whilst the odious General Mercier of Donald Wolfit epitomises Oscar Wilde's observation that "patriotism is the virtue of the vicious." Equally obnoxious is Major du Paty played by the superlative Herbert Lom, sans peruke. The two performances that linger longest are those of Swedish born Viveca Lindfors who brings her customary intelligence and sensitivity to the role of Madame Dreyfus and the immaculate Austrian Anton Walbrook who effortlessly steals all of his scenes as the charming but despicable Major Esterhazy.
José Ferrer achieves the Herculean task of being both director and portraying Dreyfus. A previous reviewer, female naturally, has remarked upon Mr. Ferrer's lack of charisma and sex appeal. I was not aware that Dreyfus possessed either of those attributes or that Mr. Ferrer was ever called upon to play a role that required them. He is immensely sympathetic in the part and what he does possess is that golden voice.
The film proudly announces that Dreyfus' eventual acquittal and reinstatement represent a brave chapter in French history. This is of course absolute tosh for were it not for the bravery and determination of a few individuals, Dreyfus would have been left to rot on Devil's Island.